


Something New to Try

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the Apple of Eden, Altair has seen and learnt a great many things. This time it does something a little different, but it is not unpleasant. Far from it, in fact. Malik is less sure about all of it but he is open to being convinced.</p><p>A kink meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New to Try

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt asked for "Altair holding Malik down/tying him up while he fucks his brain out/slowly tortures him with a vibrator." Original prompt and unbeta'd fill are [here](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/717.html?thread=2928333).
> 
> Incidentally, thanks to this story I now know more about the history of vibrators and what makes them vibrate than anyone ever needed to know. And all of that research had been worthless because I just went 'the Apple did it' in the end.

The purpose of the strange contraption that he found lying on his desk when he surfaced from looking into the Apple was not readily apparent to Altair.

He sets the Apple down and picks the device up. It appears to be some kind of curved stick made of a smooth, but hard material that he has never seen before. He turns it over and around, prodding it to see if it would give any of its secrets. There is a fine line near the bottom that runs around the device close to the bottom, a crack in the device too straight and precise to have happened by accident. It looks like the bottom could be moved.

He tries pulling at it and it does not budge, but when he twists it...

...he drops the thing in surprise when it begins to vibrate. He watches it, cautiously and curiously but it does nothing else besides buzz against the desk's surface. After a moment, he picks it up again, turns the bottom in the same direction as before and feels the vibrations intensify after a faint 'click', then turns it back and feels it ebb. He repeats this a few times until he leaves the device on the table with a frown.

It is a stick that...vibrates. While interesting, Altair cannot see any real use for it.

He turns back to the Apple and reaches for it once again.

Perhaps he will find the answers there.

He closes his eyes and delve into the Apple's depths. He has seen a great many sights this way, drawn from the artifact many ideas and insights that made his head reel.

None of his experience could have prepared him for the vision of Malik, a pleasant sight for sure, but nothing like what the Apple normally showed him. And it was not Malik, that much was obvious to Altair who could recognize the little discrepancies, the little differences in a man Altair knew almost as well as himself. The knowledge does little to stem the flash of arousal he feels at the sight image presented to him, of Malik with his cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded.

_Altair..._

"Altair!"

His eyes snap open again, his eyes fixed on the artifact clenched tightly in his hands. He can hear Malik scoff from where he was standing in front of his desk.

"You are spending far too much time with that thing." For once, Altair does not argue the point, and that gives Malik pause. There's a hand on his cheek and Altair's gaze snaps up and meets Malik's worried one, "are you all right?"

The touch of Malik's calloused fingers on his face, the soothing touch of his thumb drawing absentminded arcs over his cheekbone was warm and familiar and he can't help but lean into it, "Yes." He clears his throat, hopes the flush he feels across his skin was not as as obvious as it felt, "I--I just did not expect what the Apple showed me."

Malik canted his head, looked unconvinced but did not pursue the matter further, trusting that, should it be a problem, Altair would speak when he was ready. Instead he turned his attention to something on the desk and Altair is suddenly reminded of what had started all this in the first place.

"What is this?" He asks as he picks it up, turns it over in his hand and Altair is abruptly reminded of the vision he'd seen, of Malik, open mouthed and panting, moaning as he pressed the object into himself. The way the legs of his chair scrapes against the ground when Altair suddenly stands pulls Malik's attention away from the thing in his hand and back to his Grandmaster.

"I--" He swallows thickly before going around the table to where Malik stood, "It will be easier if I just show you."

Malik looks suspicious now, but hands the object over when Altair holds out his hand, but only so he can grab Altair's wrist. He frowns.

"What did that...thing show you this time?" Malik has made it perfectly clear that he does not trust the Apple and that he does not like the way it tempts Altair into looking into it for days on end.

It could have become a source of contention between them, but Altair would be lying if he said the fact that Malik's worry over his health did not bring with it a flush of warmth and gratitude. 

He smiles and answers softly, "nothing that I did not want to see." They hold that tableau for the span of a breath, then Malik shakes his head with a sigh that was supposed to be more exasperated than fond. Altair leans in, places a quick kiss to Malik's forehead, knowing by now that small gestures like that, chaste and sweet, were the ones that Malik was the most defenceless against. Predictably, his face flushes red. Altair pulls his hand out from Malik's grip, "turn to face the desk."

Malik only raises a brow, tries to find his composure even if he can do nothing about the colour staining his cheeks, "why? What difference does it make which way I am facing?"

"This will be easier on you. Trust me."

Malik only rolls his eyes, but does as commanded when his curiosity and interest win out. Almost immediately, Altair steps behind him, leaning forward, moulding his chest to Malik's back, arms slipping around his Second's waist.

He props his chin on Malik's shoulder and tilts his head to meet Malik's expression which can, at best, be described as unimpressed.

"I thought we were past using poorly veiled excuses to ask for intimacy." But the way his hand comes up to cover one of Altair's tells him that he doesn't mind so much, "if you do not intend to tell me what it does then say so."

Altair huffs a laugh and turns to nuzzle Malik's neck.

"They say patience is a virtue. In fact," He declares after nipping at Malik's neck lightly when he tilts his head to give him better access, "I believe you said that to me just the other day."

Malik is the one who laughs this time, "So you do listen." He sighs when Altair bites then sucks at a spot on his neck, "then you may also recall what I've said about not doing this sort of thing at your desk."

"What are you talking about? I am only doing a...small demonstration." As he says that, he moves his hand to push the back of Malik's dark robes out of the way, and, with the other hand, lightly runs the device in his hand over Malik's ass.

He puts just enough pressure so it can be felt through the cloth, to make his intentions clear. All at once Malik's body stiffens.

"You cannot be serious." The look he shoots Altair from the corner of his eye is effortlessly exasperated, "I thought you were using the Apple for the sake of the Brotherhood."

"It's not as if I had asked for this." He hadn't even known what it was. He runs the blunt head of the device up and down, follows the line between Malik's ass lightly, "but why waste what is here?"

But he does not hurry Malik into replying. He watches, patiently, as Malik bites his lip in thought. Tools of this purpose are not unheard of, exactly, but Malik is sure it couldn't be all so simple, especially if it came from the Apple of Eden.

"You want to try it." Malik says but doesn't ask. Altair's interest is apparent enough.

"If you are willing." Because Altair would not push the matter if Malik did not want to.

They are silent for a moment before Malik huffs.

"Not here." Because there are certain lines Malik isn't very keen on crossing and having sex in the Grandmaster's study, having it on the desk where they do their paperwork is on the side that Malik has no intention to visit.

"Malik..." Altair was whining. There was really no other way to describe the way he was speaking right now.

"No." At the answer, Altair only buries his face against Malik's neck with a sigh, "surely you can wait until we make it back to your chambers."

Altair did not argue, not verbally, only trailed his hand along Malik's front to palm his cock. Malik jerks back, but there is not space to and he presses himself closer to Altair's chest.

"Altair!" Whatever else he meant to say after that is choked back momentarily, as he bit his lip against a moan as Altair continued to work him through the cloth of his pants and mouth along his neck, "You, nngh, you're going to make a mess." He clings to his arguments though they no longer seemed quite so important (and it should worry him, how easily he seems to give in to Altair's touches. It should, but somehow doesn't).

"I'll clean it up." He kneads the flesh beneath his hand, feels it harden before pulling his hand back, and feels the way Malik sags back against him, as if he could no longer quite hold himself up.

He leans down until he has Malik pressed against the surface of the desk, pressing open mouthed kisses along the nape of his neck. Malik allows this with only a grumble and a shift to move his arm so it's not pinned under him. It makes Altair's mouth curve in a smile because Malik had the strength to fight him but he's allowing Altair to do this without bothering to put up one. He drags his empty hand up Malik's thigh to caress the jut of his hip teasingly.

He does not, however, have the patience to tease for long and his hand moves in to work at the laces of Malik's breeches. He lets out an irritated grunt when he fumbles at them one handed when he can't see and it draws an amused snort from Malik who reaches down to bat his hand away to undo them himself with all the precision Altair did not have.

"Novice."

Altair's reply is to lean over and tug gently at his earlobe with his teeth. He's pushing his hand into Malik's pants the moment he can, strokes the flesh between the man's leg. He leans back a little, just enough to watch the flush of Malik's cheek and the way he bites his lip as he bucks into Altair's hand. He works over him, feels his cock swell and harden as Malik pushes his pants over and off his hips. He barely takes notice of the clothing when it pools at his feet, more preoccupied with the way Altair leans back down and kisses him, all lewd and open mouthed in a way that drags a moan out of him.

Their breathing is coming out in short pants by the time Altair's hand stops and pulls back. Malik lets out an irritated sigh when he moves away to grab something from the lunch tray he'd brought with him earlier. He took that moment to straighten up, and kick the clothing at his feet off and away before stripping off his dark, Dai robes. He considers them for a moment, before draping them over a nearby chair.

He turns in time to catch Altair staring, a bottle of oil (olive) in one hand and the strange device that the Apple had conjured up in the other. He gives the latter a suspicious look, but ultimately turns back towards the desk and continues stripping (tries not to think about the almost embarrassing flush of warmth he felt when he saw the way Altair looked at him with unabashed want).

The leather belt and red sash he lets drop in a pile on top of the black robe and calls over his shoulder as he works on the ties, "Are you going to stand there staring all day?"

There's the sound of Altair setting the things occupying his hands on the desk, then there's a warm body pressed along his back and a hand grabbing at his, stopping its progress. The other loops firmly around his waist, dragging back towards the desk as he captures Malik's mouth in another kiss.

When they break for air, Malik only scoffs at his impatiences even as he allows himself to be bent over the desk again. There's no mistaking the sound of the stopped in the bottle being opened and Malik chooses, instead, to focus on the press of Altair's chest to his back and the mouth that was biting and sucking a mark on his neck instead of on what was to come.

When Altair finally deemed the device slicked enough and pushed it in it was...underwhelming actually.

It wasn't bad, per-se. But it was neither as thick as Altar's cock or as dexterous as his fingers and given how impatient Altair was to have him in this position he expected something more than this.

He frowns as Altair works the thing in and out in a steady rhythm before he sighs and starts to say as he lets his cheek lie on the surface of the desk.

"Altair, I don't think--"

But whatever he intended to say stutters to a halt when the thing in Altair hand begins to...vibrate?

Altair can't help but smirk at the look of suspicious and affronted surprise on Malik's face when his body jerks up, his head coming off the table and his body arching against Altair's as he continued to thrust the device without breaking the slow rhythm he'd started. He leans down to kiss him on the cheek as he waits for Malik to mentally regain his footing.

"Is it meant to do that?"

"Yes."

He watches as Malik tries to puzzle out if he wants this or not. He squirms under Altair, pushing back experimentally when Altair pushes the device in. He doesn't seem particularly impressed but Altair admires the look of inquisitive concentration and careful interest on his face. He runs a hand over his bare thigh with a laugh and drops a kiss on the corner of his mouth when a glare is directed at him.

Idly, he removes his hand from Malik's skin, holds the device still and turns the knob on the bottom again. 

The reaction he gets is almost instantaneous.

Malik breathes in sharply and his eyes flutter shut in a way that Altair recognizes as good sign. Encouraged he works the device in at a quicker rhythm, watches as Malik bites back the whines and moans that Altair knows are threatening to spill out. He changes the angle, experiments until the head of the device in his hand finds Malik's prostrate, making him arch with a whine.

It is everything the Apple promised, but better because it is everything it was not. It is Malik, with all the little tells and sounds that is familiar to Altair. It is his hand, scrambling for purchase on the desk as he pushes back, trying to urge Altair to go faster and harder. And it is the taste of his skin, salty with sweat, that Altair tastes when he licks a strip from the base of his neck to the nape.

There's a familiar keen that he lets out and it's the first telling sign that he's close even before he reaches down to touch himself. Altair takes his hand and presses it to the surface of the desk and holds it there. Then he stops, the only movement left between them being the rise and fall of their chests (and even that was limited by the pressure Altair placed on him), the beat of their heart and the vibration of the device.

"Did you know," He starts conversationally when Malik's eyes open to fix a glare on him, "when you turn the nob on the bottom to the left, the vibrations become weaker. When you turn it to the right," and he flicks it again and Malik's entire body trembles as if the vibration had suddenly travelled up his spine and spread to the rest of his body, "it becomes stronger." He drops a kiss onto the shell of his ear and Malik's breath comes out in a breathless sigh.

It does nothing to lessen the glare, and Malik all but growls, "Get to the point."

"The knob can be turned to the right six times before it cannot be turned again. What you are feeling is only half of what this device is capable of." Finally, he pushes it in again, presses it against Malik's prostrate and keeps it there. Malik practically mewls at the prolonged contact and squirms. "I wonder if you can last that long?" He pulls back only, listens for the whine and the way it stutters at the end when he pushes the device back in. "Do you think you can last until the end?"

The glare returns with full force. "If you do not begin to move that will be the least of your worries." It was both a threat and an acceptance of his challenge. In response, Altair leans over and swallows the next moan he draws from Malik when he pulls the device out then thrusts it back in.

The pace he keeps is slow and patient, but it's not long before Malik is a wreck under him, the flush spreading down to his neck. Every little movement has moans dropping from his lips and his back arching against Altair's chest, with only the space of their robes between them. Oh, but even though he's the one pressed between the desk and another body, Altair feels like the one who can't breathe. He regrets not removing his own clothes in his haste to have Malik like this as it's becoming uncomfortably constricting, but it's only a fleeting regret, easily overcame by the whimper Malik lets out when he turns the knob again.

He is silent except for the sound of his panting breath, more interested, instead, in catching all the little sounds Malik makes. They are familiar things, but he drinks them all in with the same fascination as the first time he heard them. There is a thrill in knowing that he is the one who can reduce Malik to this, even more so in knowing that Malik had _chosen_ this, that he would allow Altair these kinds of liberties.

He avoids turning the knob at the end of the device another time, listens and watches to see how much further he could draw this out.

Then Malik begins to beg, stutters a desperate string of, 'please, Altair, please, please' and he whimpers when Altair's hand moves from where it was pinning his to the desk to stroke his cock.

The way the vibrations increases in intensity catches him by surprise and he cries out when it happens. He bucks helplessly into Altair's hand, and it isn't long before he comes with a shout. He jerks a few more times before he collapses on the desk, still pinned beneath Altair's weight. He feels the device being switched off and removed, sighs at the sensation, content and sated.

In contrast, Altair's voice is still strained and tight as he ruts against the back of Malik's thigh, "Malik..." Because he wanted to bury himself into the body underneath his, to fuck into him until he's hard and begging again. But he doesn't have the patience to prepare him properly; he was so hard he _ached._

Malik cracks open his eyes languidly. He lifts his hand to push back against Altair with a grunt.

"Let me up."

And Altair does, though he doesn't move far, staying close enough to pull Malik into a kiss. He frame's Malik's face and later, he will probably be reprimanded for leaving a mess of cum there, but for now Malik seems content to just kiss him like he intended to suck take the very air from Altair's lungs as he works at the drawstring on Altair's pants.

Then he breaks off and drops to his knees, dragging Altair's pants to his knees as he went. Altair had two seconds to wonder if Malik would tease him, put his mouth everywhere except where Altair wanted (needed) it as retribution for drawing things out as much as he had. But, for whatever reason, Malik was apparently in a forgiving mood and only lets out a brief hum before he's sucking Altair off with all the efficiency of a man who has done this many times before.

The wet warmth of his mouth is a welcome thing, as is the way he knew exactly what Altair liked and he buries his hand in Malik's hair with a whine. Altair didn't think to last long, but the moment he looked down he couldn't have anyway. Because Malik's lips are stretched obscenely around his cock while the lingering echo of his voice, broken and begging for release (for Altair to keep him from falling over the brink) still haunts him. He comes with a stuttering cry and Malik easily swallows all that he can give.

Then he also drops to his knees, drags Malik close and licks at the cum and spit that collected at the corner of his mouth, then kisses him lazily and Malik sighs into it. When they break apart, Malik reaches up to brush away the mess on his cheek but Altair grabs his wrist, stopping him. He leans in to lick his cheek clean as he laces their fingers together.

"I did promise to clean up." He explains with a chuckle.

He watches the way Malik's gaze flicker to the small mess on the ground from earlier then he shakes his head.

"Amusing as it would be to watch," he begins in a voice that implies that it would only be slightly more amusing than watching novices tripping over their own feet (and Malik's irritation about novices who didn't practice their footwork was well known and often voiced), "I'm not kissing you if you lick the floor."

**Author's Note:**

> PWPs are hard.


End file.
